


Fix it Yourself

by voksen



Series: WKverse [16]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-22
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where they collect nagi.</p><p>prompt, ever so originally: "fix it yourself"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix it Yourself

Schuldig has never seen Crawford as furious as he is when he gets off the plane in Brussels with a small Asian boy in tow. No one else sees it, or else they'd be giving him a much wider berth: it's probably only Crawford's iron will keeping him from shooting the people jostling up against him. After having worked with him so long, though, Schuldig doesn't have to be telepathic to see the way his polite smile is just a bit too tight. Normally his control is all but perfect; seeing it slip enough to be noticeable is not only _fascinating_ , but slightly alarming.

Crawford's mood can't be his fault, considering he hasn't done anything for the last day and a half but sit on his ass in their hotel room eating room service, watching pay per view, and ruining the marriage of the couple in the honeymoon suite upstairs, none of which is drastic enough to get this kind of reaction. All the more interesting. Standing, he slides through the crowd to Crawford's side.

"This the kid?" he asks, taking a good look.

"Naoe Nagi," Crawford says shortly, then in Japanese: "This is Schuldig."

Schuldig's been under orders to learn Japanese. It's slow going without native speakers around, but he knows enough to piece out names and easy sentences. He gives Nagi a quick, toothy smile, amused at the way his eyes widen slightly.

 _Yoroshiku na_ , he says into Nagi's mind, laughing aloud as the boy trips, then nearly stumbles into Crawford while trying to catch up with their longer strides. He gets a badly-concealed dirty look and a silent and not-so-complimentary appraisal of his accent for his trouble.

Crawford's glare is more pointed and much icier. "Leave it," he orders, and there's so much steel in his voice that Schuldig decides it's probably best to let it go at least until they're in the relative privacy of their rental car.

Digging the keys out of his pocket as they walk, he tosses them idly, then has to take a quick step forwards to catch them as Nagi shoves at them telekinetically. Good: kid's got a sense of humor - or a sense of revenge. Either one, he can work with.

In the lot, Nagi heads for the back seat without having to be told. "Smart kid," Schuldig says, swinging into the driver's seat. Nagi blinks as if startled, but doesn't comment aloud; his mind is a baffling jumble of Japanese. Crawford snorts.

He waits til they're on the road to ask, privately: _What crawled up your ass?_

Crawford is silent for long seconds behind his thick shields. In the back seat, Nagi fidgets with his seatbelt and thinks loudly and incomprehensibly. Finally, he answers in the same manner: _Rosenkreuz bungled his training._

Schuldig's eyebrows go up sharply and he looks over.

"Watch the road," Crawford warns.

Schuldig turns back in time to avoid hitting a bicyclist. _On purpose?_ In the rear view mirror, the man shakes his fist. Schuldig rolls down the window, sticks his hand out, and flips him the bird American style.

There's another heavy silence, and Schuldig has to keep himself from turning to Crawford again.

 _I think so,_ Crawford answers. _He should be capable of much more._

Schuldig eyes Nagi briefly in the mirror; he's staring blankly out the window. _He's still a kid._

 _He's older than he looks._

"Kid," Schuldig says, and feels a shiver of resentment and annoyance. "Nagi," he says instead, rolling his eyes, and it fades a little. "How old are you?"

Pause. _Juusansai._ It's muffled, like Nagi is trying to shield without knowing exactly what he's doing. "Thirteen."

 _They only had him what, a year or two?_

 _He learns fast._

Swinging the car into the parking lot of the hotel, Schuldig tosses the keys to the valet as the others get out. Nagi lets the keys alone in favor of scuttling around the car to stand behind Crawford; Schuldig smirks. There's a lot he doesn't know yet about revenge or humor - or both.

 _So we'll have to teach him, then,_ he tells Crawford.

Crawford looks at him sharply, then smiles slowly: a real smile, the one that says 'exactly-what-I-needed', the one he's somehow conditioned Schuldig to want. _If you want something done right..._ he says, taking Nagi by the wrist and leading him into the hotel.

Grinning, Schuldig follows.


End file.
